


A Trip Down Memory Lane

by 96flowers



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Hospitalization, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-05-02 17:45:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5257781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/96flowers/pseuds/96flowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A normal night at the hospital turns into more when a young woman is brought in with a gunshot wound to the chest. Martha is called in to be the lead doctor upon the insistence of the woman's friend. Little did Martha know that answering that page she would take a long overdue trip down memory lane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Doctor Who.

_A Trip Down Memory Lane_

_Emergency Room_

* * *

_***Doctor Smith-Jones to the ER. Doctor Smith-Jones to the ER*** _

Martha looked up from the book she had been enjoying on her break with a startled expression on her face. She checked the clock and found that she still had about 15 minutes left before she was due back. Wondering what could be going on she abandoned her book and left the break room for the Emergency Room.

Upon arrival, there didn't seem to be more people than the doctors on call could handle. Martha made her way over to the desk to ask what was going on. The nurse looked up just before she reached the desk.

"Oh good, you're here Doctor," the nurse said with a sigh of relief. "A young women came in with a gunshot wound to the chest and is in critical condition. An older gentleman is here with her, working as her medical proxy. He is instant that you be the one to help her. He doesn't seem to trust anyone else."

"Okay," Martha said with a raised eyebrow. "What are their names and what room am I heading for?"

"The victim's name is Clara Oswald, 24. The man's name is John Smith," the nurse said after she checked the computer. Martha was a little hesitant with working with someone named John Smith, after past experiences. It was hard for her to see a human in his place when all she wanted was to see her old friend. "They are in room 8."

"Thank You," Martha said before turning towards where she knew room 8 to be. She had to remind her self that the man couldn't possibly be _him,_ and that she had to focus on her patient and not the past.

As she approached the room she found it a buzz with activity. When she walked in she immediately took in the situation. The smell of antiseptic was strong and there was an underlying tinge of metallic that she knew to be blood. There were six people in the room, including the patient. There were three nurses working on the patient, two of which she knew by name. The patient herself caught Martha's attention next, she was a beautiful young brunette. Her skin was unnaturally pale and sweaty indicating that she had lost of blood on the transport over. There was a bag of O blood hanging on the hook next to a bad of saline leading into her arm. Her sweater and blouse had been cut up the front to get to the wound that was having pressure applied to it by one of the nurses. She appeared to be in a state of semi-consciousness, her cloudy, pain filled eyes trained on the man that must have been John Smith.

John Smith was an interesting man to look at. He was older, probably in his early sixties, his hair was an interesting salt'n pepper color and curly. His clothes were something you would see on 19th century men. The final nurse was taking care of a nasty looking cut along the man's scalp. The man's eyes were trained on the young woman but as if sensing her presence the man's eye suddenly snapped to hers and she was lost in memories of eyes so similar. Eyes that shadowed pain, guilt, and memory. Eyes that were older than time its self. Eyes that she had last seen in the face of a young man who had brown spikey hair and was thinner than a stick. Eyes that belonged to only one being in the Universe. Eyes that belonged to The Doctor.

Martha felt her own eyes widen as she realized just who was sitting in her Emergency room. He may carry a different face and wear different clothes, but there was no way she wouldn't know the eyes that she dreamed about so often. He was still the Doctor, no matter what his face looked like. She knew the moment that the Doctor realized she knew who he was because his eyes crinkled slightly at the sides showing that he was glad to see her.

"Doctor Smith-Jones," The Doctor said, and what a surprise it was to hear a Scottish accent coming from the Time Lord. "I need your help."

"That's why I'm here," Martha said with a small smile, and she saw him relax ever so slightly knowing that she would save his friend. Martha walked to the counter to retrieve a pair of gloves before turning to look over Clara. "Nurse Balk, what's her condition?"

"The bullet entered the upper left hand side of her chest," Said the nurse that had been monitoring her vitals. "We think that it missed most of her vital organs including her heart and lungs. We have ordered a portable X-Ray to make sure. She is lucky, she is breathing on her own and her heart rate, while low, is steady. It appears that she is only suffering from blood loss and shock."

"Good, that's good," Martha said as she checked the wound under the gauze. "Nurse Zonts, please go call Doctor McGee and tell him that there is a gunshot victim who is needed in his ER as soon as her X-Rays come through."

"Yes ma'am."

And with that the next 20 minutes were spent checking Clara's X-Rays and getting her prepped to go into surgery to repair the damage done by the bullet and retrieve it before it caused an infection. When Clara was finally wheeled into the OR Martha was finally alone with the man she had thought about frequently since she last saw him. She took a seat next to him in the deserted waiting room for OR 5. The alien was sitting with his head in his hands gripping his hair. They sat in silence for a moment before he finally spoke.

"Thank you," was the quiet whisper. Martha almost thought she had imagined it.

"Oh Doctor," She sighed. She hesitantly put a hand in his back and began to gently rub soothing circles. He tensed a moment before finally relaxing. "There is nothing to thank me for. She is strong, she'll be just fine."

"I know," he said finally sitting up and catching her eye. "But you didn't have to treat her. I was told you were on break after working for more than 12 hours. Thank you for taking care of her. I don't trust many humans to take care of the people I care about."

"I found it strange that I would be called when I still had time for my break but something was telling me that this would be a case I couldn't miss," Martha said with a small smile. "You've changed Doctor. What happened? I don't mean your face either, Mikey explained regeneration. I mean, you seem more…weary."

There was silence for another moment as The Doctor looked her over and took in the changes that had happened since he left. She was older, but in a good way, she was no longer a medical student trying to prove herself. She was no longer under UNIT's thumb as an ex companion. She was a married woman who finally found her notch in the world. And he couldn't be more proud of her. He sighed deeply.

"It has been a very long time since I last saw you Martha Jones," He began. "I've regenerated twice. I've seen many things that even I wish I hadn't. I found love again and lost then her. I traveled with some of the most amazing people, much like you. I've solved mysteries and I've come across just as many more. Big Bang 2.0, Weeping Angels in Manhattan, Devils Run, World War Two with Daleks, and so much more. I've seen my own grave and changed time…I found out that the Time Lords aren't as dead as I thought…"

He trailed off with a haunted look in his eyes. Martha didn't know what to say at first, then it came to her.

"Stay here, with me," the doctor looked at her with an incredulous expression and she hastened to explain. "Just for a little bit, just till Clara recovers. You can stay with Mickey and I. As guests. You need to relax and not worry for a little. Clara isn't going to be able to go anywhere just yet and I have a feeling that she is just outside her time so calling an emergency contact would be bad. I can take care of her, as can Mickey."

"Thank you," The Doctor said after a moment of thinking about it. "I think I might just take you up on that offer."

"Good," the smile that lit up Martha's face was blinding at all at once The Doctor felt like he was looking at the young woman who had been so excited to see Shakespeare, before she became the Woman Who Walked The Earth. Then in an instant Doctor Smith-Jones was sitting there with a professional air about her. "How did she get shot and are the police involved?"

"We were mugged," The Doctor sighed again, he seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. "We had been walking back to the TARDIS from where we had stopped to have diner. The street was empty seeing as it was closing in on midnight when we left the restaurant. We were just about to turn down the street where the TARDIS was parked when a man came up behind us and pulled a gun from within his jacket. He told us to freeze and turn around with our hands in the air. After ordering us to turn out our pockets and found that we didn't have anything of value he turned the gun on Clara. He knew I hadn't taken everything out of my pockets, but you know how badly that could have ended if I had. Clara took a small step forward and tried to reason with the man, but he wasn't having any of that. He didn't even hesitate, and pulled the trigger, shooting her in the chest. I went to catch her but he turned and took a shot at me but I managed to turn at the last second at it grazed my scalp instead of hitting me. I went down though because it was still strong enough to knock me out. Someone heard the two shots and called the police. I woke up just as they were arriving, there was an off duty doctor keeping pressure on Clara's wound and keeping her awake. The ambulance and the police arrived soon after. One rode in the ambulance with Clara and I, and he took the story from my point of view. You're supposed to call them when Clara is able to give her story."

"Of all the trouble you get into and come out fine," Martha shook her head. "and walking down the street you get mugged and shot. I just don't understand your luck sometimes Doctor."

"Believe me, neither do I," he muttered with a shake of his head. "Clara isn't afraid do what she can to get us out of tight spots. Always looking out for me in ways that I haven't seen since I traveled with you, my dear Martha. When I learned that we were being brought here I knew that I would want you to treat her."

"Speaking of," Martha said confused. "How did you know that I worked here?"

"Oh Martha," The Doctor said with a sad smile. "I always keep track of my companions. Even after they have left me and this life behind, because it may not always leave them behind. I always make sure that everyone is happy and cared for. Long after I have gone."

Martha didn't know how to respond to that. So she just reached out and pulled him into a hug. He flailed his arms for a moment before hugging her tightly to him. She pulled back after a moment.

"I may not work for UNIT any more but I still have some contacts there," Martha said after a few more moments of silence. "I'll give them a call and see if they can get your TARDIS moved to my place so you won't have to go move it."

"That would be great if you could Martha," The Doctor said with a small smile.

"Also Mickey now works for the police after having been given a great recommendation from UNIT," Martha contemplated. "Let me give him a call and see if he can't take over your case. The less people who are not in the know that are involved, the better."

"That's right," The Doctor said surprised. "I forgot that he was transferred to the London police after you all left UNIT after the debacle with the Daleks and the Earth being moved."

"Yes, he moved through the ranks quickly and is now a detective inspector!" Martha said proudly. She stood and started rummaging through her pockets. "Let me just go give them a call. I'll be back in a few moments."

The Doctor nodded before she turned and made her way outside so she could get cell service to make her calls. It was about fifteen minutes of sitting in silence by himself before Martha rejoined him in the waiting room.

"Where exactly did you park the TARDIS? I need to send the address to my people so they can move it," Martha asked as she sat back down. The Doctor thought for a moment then recited the address of where he remembered parking it. **(I'm lazy and don't want to have to come up with an address, I also have never been to London.)** The text was sent less than a minute later. "Mickey said that he had already been assigned the case. He arrived a few moments after the two of you had been picked up. He had seen the TARDIS parked around the corner but didn't think it had anything to do with your case. Mickey thought it was just a coincidence, but now he knows and is getting ready to come here so he can wait with us for Clara to come out of surgery."

The Doctor simply nodded. The day was catching up with him. He hadn't sleep in nearly four days, he had thought that after they had gotten back to the TARDIS that he would sleep. But that obviously didn't happen. He didn't need as much sleep as humans did so he thought he would have been okay. Well now he is falling asleep waiting for Clara to come out of surgery. He was vaguely aware of being pulled into a comfortable position against someone as he slowly started to lose awareness.

"Sleep Doctor, I'll wake you with news," and with that his world went dark.


	2. Waking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day. Clara gives her own accounting of the events leading up to her getting shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter, sorry it took so long. Real life has kinda kicked me in the ass. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who nor am I making any money from this.

_ A Trip Down Memory Lane  _

_ Waking  _

The Doctor woke to find himself on a hospital bed with the covers tucked around him. He was slightly confused for a moment till his memories came rushing back. He sat up as quickly as he could and looked around the room. His bed was blocked from the rest of the room by a blue curtain, he was on the side closest to the window, the room was obviously meant for two patients. Looking towards the window he found the blinds pulled tightly closed and there was sunlight streaming in around the edges. Checking his ever present gold watch he found it to be just before 10am. The Doctor pulled the blankets off, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and gently stood to his feet. He quickly made his way over to the curtain dividing the room and pulled them apart. 

 

He breathed a sigh of relief at seeing Clara asleep on the other bed. She was still very pale and she was on a heart monitor but she was alive and breathing unassisted. He walked over to her silently and gently took her hand and sat on the edge of the bed. 

 

“Oh Clara,” The Doctor said shaking his head. “Everything we've been through and walked away from without a scratch and we get mugged and shot after a simple dinner. I'm just very glad you are going to be alright.” 

 

She didn't respond. He didn't expect her too, she was still under the effects of the anesthesia from the surgery. The door to the room creaked open and a very familiar figure entered the room. 

 

“Mickey Mouse,” The Doctor smiled before standing from the bed and meeting him in the middle. Mickey was dressed in a business casual suit, his jacket was off and over his arm, his sleeves were rolled up around his elbows, and his tie was undone and hanging around his shoulders. 

 

“You got old Doc,” Mickey said straight faced. His eyes were moving all over the Timelord, taking in all the changes. “And Scottish, and heavy, I had to carry your heavy self in here after you fell asleep in the waiting room and nothing could wake you. Reminded me of Christmas with the Sycorax when Rose and I had to carry you from the flat to the TARDIS.” 

 

Then Mickey smiled, threw his jacket over the nearby chair, and pulled the Timelord into a hug. The Doctor froze for a moment before returning the hug. 

 

“Martha will be back in a few hours,” Mickey said as the pulled back. “She was dead on her feet so I took her home. Once she has slept for a minimum of 7 hours she’ll be back. She fell asleep about 4am so she'll be back by 2pm.” 

 

“Was she okay? I know she was already at the end of her rope when we came in,” the Doctor asked worried as they sat in the two chairs in to room. 

 

“Yeah, she was okay.” Mickey soothed, “She only got Clara into surgery then sat with you till I arrived. She has pushed herself so much worse and been much worse off than she was last night.” 

 

“Good, good,” the Timelord sighed. “Tell me Mickey, any idea who did this?” 

 

“At this point? No,” Mickey sighed sitting forward and bracing his elbows on his knees and chin on his clasped hands. “Recently, we've had several other cases similar to this one. From the description of the suspect, it seems to be the same man each time. Though this is the first where someone was shot. Till now he has been given what he wanted, the only other time he was denied he pistol whipped them and rifled through their pockets.” 

 

“He’s escalating? Or do you think this was a one off?” The Doctor asked seriously.  

 

“Honestly, if he follows the patterns left by other muggers like him, he will be escalating, getting more bold and confident,” Mickey said morosely. “I've seen it before. It's not pretty. He’s shot someone now, he’ll likely do it again, and soon. He will want to feel that adrenaline rush again. He likely doesn't care that he almost killed Clara. He probably spooked himself when he actually pulled the trigger. That's why he ran without checking your pockets. But now he knows what it feels like, he will either turn himself in out of guilt, or look to do it again.” 

 

“How long does it take to turn themselves in or strike again?” 

 

“Tonight, tomorrow night at the latest.” 

 

“If there is anything I can do..,” the Doctor trailed off with a meaningful look. 

 

“There probably won't be,” Mickey shook his head. “Scotland Yard is very strict on who can help with our cases. I'll let you know though if there is anything you can do. Right now we just have to wait for Clara to wake up so we can get her statement.”

 

The two were silent for a while. Mickey had been up all night filling out reports and arranging the transportation of the TARDIS, so he was dozing in his seat. The Doctor had moved from his seat not long after the man had started to nod off and was standing in front of the now open window. His mind was a million light years away, thinking about so much yet at the same time so little.

It was nearing 12:30 pm when the heart monitors on Clara showed an increase of her heart rate. The Doctor heard the change and was by her side a second later as she began to wake. Her eyes started to flutter before opening. She squinted at the light in the room for a moment before opening them all the way again. They quickly landed on the Doctor who was once again seated on the edge of her bed. 

 

“Doctor,” she said in a raspy voice. She winced at the sandpaper feeling in her throat. He leaned over to the side-table where a pitcher of water rested. Quickly pouring out a cup and grabbing a bendy straw he brought it to Clara’s mouth to let her have a drink. She gave him a tired and grateful smile. In a still quiet voice she asked, “How long has it been?”   
  


“You were shot at just before midnight last night, it is just now 12:30 pm the following afternoon,” he said softly putting the water back on the nightstand. “How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?” 

 

“Not right now,” she replied after a moment. She shifted on the bed and tried to sit up but the Doctor’s hand on her shoulder kept her reclined. He reached over to the control panel on the side of the bed and raised the bed just a little so she was more upright than reclined but still not fully up. “I mostly feel fuzzy, which I am sure is from the drugs and blood loss.”

 

She looked around the room they were in and caught sight of the unfamiliar form of Mickey Smith still snoozing away in the chair by her side. She looked to the Doctor in confusion, “Who...?”

 

“Ah,” The Doctor smiled and looked over to him. “That is Detective Inspector Mickey Smith. He is from Scotland Yard and will be working our case. He also happens to be an old friend of mine. I knew him in my Ninth and Tenth regenerations. It just so happened he was assigned to our case without knowing that it was me. He is married to Doctor Martha Jones, who is one of your doctors, is also an old friend of mine from my Tenth regeneration.”

 

“I’ve wanted to meet others who have traveled with you to swap stories,” Clara smiled slightly at the idea. The doctor got a slightly scared look on his face at the idea of companions talking about him, flashing back to when Sarah-Jane and Rose meet for the first time. 

 

“Oh it’s always fun,” Mickey said, startling the two. He chuckled slightly at the looks he got from the two of them. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I heard that last comment and couldn’t help but respond. He hates when old companions get together cause we talk about embarrassing stuff and it’s fun to watch him squirm.” 

 

Clara gave a strained laugh and winced again, the doctor was by her side still holding her hand and gave it a worried squeeze. She squeezed back in a comforting way. 

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Detective,” Clara said with a smile. She held out her free hand, though it was trapped close by the IV. Mickey stepped over and gently shook her hand. 

 

“The pleasure is mine Miss Oswald,” Mickey smiled. “Though, I insist that you call me Mickey. We are fellow companions, we are family.”

 

“Only if you call me Clara,” Clara countered. She leaned back after he released her hand. “I take it you need an official statement.”

 

“Yes, I do,” Mickey sighed as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “We can wait if you want. It doesn't have to be right now, but it does need to be today.”

 

“Might as well do it now,” Clara said, she adjusted herself on the bed so she was facing Mickey a bit better. “Ask away.”

 

Mickey nodded and went to his jacket and pulled out his phone. He pulled open the recording app and set the phone down on the bed. “First, I would just like you to tell your story, we have already asked Mr. Smith to give his version but we would also like to hear it from you.”

 

“It was such a normal night,” Clara began with a shake of her head, she vaguely remembered the Doctor giving his name as John Smith when they brought in. “John and I went out to dinner to catch up, he used to work at the school I currently teach at. We were walking back towards the underground so that he could take me home when it happened.” 

 

Here she paused, she coughed a little and motioned for the water. She took a few long sips before continuing. 

 

“He seemed to come out of nowhere, he was probably under a dark tree nearby. He came up behind us, quiet as a mouse. I heard the unmistakable click of him cocking the gun before he said anything. At the sound John and I stopped moving and splayed our hands out to our sides. That was when he spoke,

 

’So you know what that sound is, good. Put your hands above your head and turn around slowly,’ his voice was low gravely. He was purposely changing it. When we finished turning I got a good look at him. He was taller than me but shorter than John, probably standing at 5 feet 10 or 11 inches. He was wearing all black and a baseball cap pulled as far down as he could manage. He had a cleft chin and a real narrow jaw, I could just make out the shine of glasses in the street light. He said, ‘Alright, turn out your pockets. I wary to see everything.’ 

 

I did as asked, I have nothing to hide. John...John is a consultant to UNIT. His phone has contact information to important people and has classified information. We couldn't let his phone be taken. So he only partially turned out his pockets. He knew, I don't know how, but he knew John hadn't given everything. He focused the gun on John. He demanded, 

 

‘I said everything. I know there is more. All of it or you eat a bullet.’ 

 

I wanted to try and reason with him. Or at least distract him long enough for someone to notice what was happening. I took a tiny step forward and he swung the gun at me. He didn't even hesitate. He pulled the trigger. I can't remember if I screamed or not. Everything after that kinda runs together. I remember John yelling and another shot. I remember a nice man hovering over me with his hands on my chest, his lips were moving but I couldn't hear him. There were sirens in the distance. I remember being transferred to the ambulance and John hovering with blood dripping down his face. I remember the lights and sounds of the hospital. I remember a woman, a doctor, she was nice. She kept talking to me and stayed by my side with John till I was taken to surgery. Then nothing.” 

 

“Thank you Miss Oswald,” Mickey said and reached for his phone. “You covered everything well. No further questions at this time.”

 

He then tapped the screen and the recording stopped. 

 

“UNIT consultant?” The Doctor asked amused. 

 

“Well it's true,” Clara defended. She gently flicked his ear. “You’ve pulled their asses out of the fire enough.”

 

“I can attest to that,” A voice laughed from the door. The three turned to see Martha in the door wearing casual clothes. “I'm glad you are awake and alert.” 

 

“You must be Doctor Smith-Jones,” Clara smiled. 

 

“Just Martha will do,” she said and came to the side if the bed. She took the chart from the foot of the bed a flipped through the notes from the surgeon. “Well you were very lucky. The bullet missed everything vital, your lungs, heart and arteries. They retrieved the bullet in one piece, cleaned the wound and closed it. You'll be in pain for about a week and sore for a month or so but you'll live with no permanent injury save for a small scar.” 

 

Clara smiled wider and went to respond but yawned instead. 

 

“Sleep Clara,” Martha said softly. She walked to the controls on the side of the bed and lowered it back to a more reclined position. “You've been through a lot and need rest.”

 

Clara nodded tiredly, the Doctor gently adjusted her blankets and gave her a kiss on the forehead and she was out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review!  
> Reviews make me happy and make me write more :-)


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